Forty-Three Ben
forty-three
Ben
You look so handsome,” Judy kept saying.
Ben smiled and pulled her into a hug. “Thanks, Mom. It means a lot that you came.”
“I took a video for your siblings,” Sean said, holding up his phone. “I hope that’s okay.”
Ben laughed, but he looked past his dad, searching for a familiar bald head.
He’d wanted to leap off the stage and run right for Arya, romantic comedy style, but he was in a full suit, with an expensive cello he needed to store properly, and a bunch of his fellow musicians in the way.
So he’d gone back to the service corridor, put away his instrument as fast as he could, and come back out into the ballroom. Except now Arya was nowhere to be found.
He’d made a quick lap of the tables—as best he could with the crowd milling around, slowly moving toward the dance floor—before landing at his parents’ table.
“Hey, have you—”
He was drowned out by the DJ, who had decided to start the night off by blaring The Weeknd at the kind of volume normally reserved for stadium concerts.
Ben winced. He was tempted to pull his earplugs out of his pockets, but apparently the DJ realized their mistake.
Either that or Carley’s sound engineer had turned down the PA itself.
Actually, it was probably the latter. Ben had met a lot of DJs in his life, and restraint was not a word he’d associated with any of them.
“You good, Ben?” his dad asked, tugging Judy toward the dance floor.
“Huh?”
“You okay?”
“I’m good, Dad. Go have fun.”
Sean twirled Judy and she smiled and blushed like a schoolgirl, giggling as she followed him. Ben grinned and watched his parents go. For a second he forgot what he was even doing.
They were so in love, even after nearly fifty years.
Ben wanted that.
And he was pretty sure he knew who with.
If only he could find him!
Could he get up onstage? Grab one of the microphones and blare it out for the whole ballroom to hear? Arya Nazeri, please report to the stage, your ex-boyfriend wants to reconcile with you.
No, Carley’s crew was already clearing it. Actually, they mostly had cleared it. Damn, they were fast.
What about the DJ? Ben glanced their way; he was pretty sure he could take them in a fight if it came down to a struggle for the microphone.
In the end, he headed toward the dance floor. His parents hadn’t made it all the way—he spotted them in one corner, hugging the Holbrooks. Diane said something that had Sean in stitches, apparently.
Ben recognized some of their higher-profile donors; other folks were total strangers. But he recognized one person, an older woman in a red dress who’d been seated next to Arya. When the song finally ended, Ben weaved his way closer. There was something weirdly familiar about her.
“Sorry,” Ben shouted. The DJ had already started up again. “But have you seen a bald man in a turquoise suit? He was sitting at your table at dinner.”
The woman blinked at Ben. “My son?”
Ben blinked. That’s why she looked familiar. She had Arya’s nose. Or maybe he had hers.
“You’re Arya’s mom?”
She nodded.
“I’m Ben. Ben Liu. Arya’s…”
Before Ben could decide what to call himself, she was smiling and pulling him into a hug.
“Ben! So nice to meet you. Arya said you were handsome, but he didn’t say you were this handsome.” She held on to his triceps and looked him up and down. “So. This is the man who made my son believe in love.”
Ben’s head spun. Holy shit. Arya’s mom.
Arya had brought his mom with him tonight?
Arya had told his mom about Ben?
For as long as Ben had known Arya, he’d complained about his parents. About how he felt like their relationship had messed him up.
But here she was, in the flesh. And she knew about Ben.
This is the man who made my son believe in love.
Hope fluttered in Ben’s chest.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Nazeri,” Ben said.
“Please. Shohreh.” She squeezed his arms. “You’re looking for Arya?”
“Have you seen him? He—”
“Ben!” Arya called.
Ben spun, nearly tripping as his shoe caught on the edge of the dance floor, but he righted himself.
“I was looking for you.”
“I was looking for you, too.”
Arya said something to his mom in Farsi. She nodded and smiled.
Arya offered Ben a hand, cocking his head toward a corner of the ballroom.
Ben took his hand and followed.
Arya led them to another one of the dark vestibules separating the ballroom from the service corridor.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
It had only been a few weeks, and Ben had thought about Arya every moment of every day, but even still, it was like he’d forgotten how beautiful Arya was. How had he ever let Arya get away from him? He wouldn’t make that mistake twice.
“I—” Arya began, but Ben held up a hand.
“Can I say something?”
Arya swallowed. “Okay.”
Ben took a deep breath. Swallowed the spiky frog in his throat.
“I’m really, really sorry, Arya.”
“You’re what now?” Arya blinked at him.
“I’m sorry. I was a total dick, and when you called me out, I turned it around on you.
But I was the one in the wrong. You were trying so hard, and I couldn’t see it because it didn’t look like what I wanted it to.
And you were right, I didn’t try talking to you about it.
I just convinced myself what I thought was right.
I got in my own head about things because I was feeling insecure.
But you deserved my trust, and you deserved my communication, and I promise, if you give me another chance, I’ll show you how committed I am to you. Because I love you, Arya.”
Arya took a sharp breath.
Shit, had Ben fucked up? Had he ruined this?
But then:
“I love you, too,” Arya said. Softly at first, but then he shook himself and said it again, louder.
“I love you, Ben. And I’m sorry, too. I could’ve handled things better.
And I could’ve taken responsibility instead of just blaming my parents.
I’ve spent my whole life keeping everything in neat little piles and never mixing them up.
But I love you, and I want you to know all my piles. ”
His face scrunched up.
“That sounded weird. The point is, I can’t promise I’ll never mess up again, but I can promise I’ll keep trying until I get it right. I love you, Ben.”
Ben’s heart healed over, patched with gold, like those Japanese kintsugi pots.
They loved each other.
They loved each other.
Arya grinned. “I want you to be in all the parts of my life. Even the messy ones. If you want to be.”
“I do,” Ben said. He glanced toward the dance floor. “My mom and dad are here tonight, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Came to visit.”
“Hm. How long do you think before they start to worry about you?”
Ben cocked his head. “Why?”
Instead of answering, Arya grabbed Ben by the tie and pulled him into a kiss.
Sweet nonprofit fuck, Ben had missed the feel of Arya’s lips. The taste of his mouth. The sweetness of his tongue.
He let out a moan, grateful for the DJ’s music covering them as he brought up his hands to brace himself against the wall before Arya toppled them both over.
He stepped forward, forcing Arya back until he was sandwiched between the wall and Ben, and Ben didn’t have to worry about balance, only about tracing Arya’s lips with his own, chasing Arya’s tongue, grinding his hips against Arya’s.
“I missed you,” Arya gasped, tracing kisses up Ben’s jawline to his weak spot.
Ben wrapped his arms around Arya before his knees gave out.
“I missed you, azizam,” Arya muttered. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Ben murmured back, giving Arya’s earlobe a nip.
All at once Arya brought his hands between them, pushed Ben back half a step.
“What?”
“Come with me.” He took Ben’s hand—how Ben had missed holding Arya’s hand—and dragged Ben back into the service corridor, limping slightly. Ben hadn’t noticed before, but Arya’s left knee was in a brace.
“Arya, what happened?”
“The fucking Lawrence Gryphons happened,” he said darkly. “It’s just sprained. Don’t worry.”
Arya led them to a plain gray door and used the card on his lanyard to beep them into it.
The room was little more than a closet, dry and warm inside, with racks and racks of electronics lining the walls. Green lights blinked in rhythm; fans whirred and hummed.
Arya pushed the door shut behind them.
“It’s not what you know; it’s who you know,” he said with a grin. He lowered himself onto the dusty office chair in the corner and pulled Ben to him by the hips.
Ben’s cock surged. His heart pounded, anticipating Arya’s mouth on him, because that was where this was headed, wasn’t it?
But then Arya looked up at him, brown eyes shining with such warmth, such raw vulnerability, Ben nearly shivered.
“Hey,” Arya said. “You know I’m okay with it, right? You being a side?”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was in my head, and—”
Arya shook his head. “Even if we never have sex again, I’d still love you. To be clear, I very much do want us to keep having sex, but I love you for you. Not for your pole and hole.”
Ben snorted. “My pole and hole?”
“It’s a good pole,” Arya said, reaching for Ben’s zipper. “What can I say? I’m a slut in love.”
“Lucky me,” Ben said as Arya pulled his cock and balls free in one fluid move. He pulled Ben in, rolled the little chair closer, and planted his mouth on Ben’s balls.
“Oh, fuck me,” Ben groaned as Arya’s hot, wet mouth lit his nerves on fire.
“Fuck my mouth instead,” Arya said against the sensitive skin of Ben’s inner thigh. Then he adjusted his angle and plunged down onto Ben’s cock, using his lips to skin Ben back as he went.
“Holy shit,” Ben gasped. Arya started stroking him with his mouth, sucking harder than Ben had ever felt before. So often, he and Arya had taken their time to get each other off, but this time Arya seemed to be on a mission.
Arya’s rhythm didn’t slow as he reached for Ben’s hand and placed it on his head. He kept his other hand on Ben’s hip to keep himself in place.
The suction was sending Ben to cloud nine, and the lashing of Arya’s tongue against his frenulum had him hurtling toward an out-of-body experience, but he took Arya’s cue and thrust his hips forward.
Arya sputtered, his rhythm disrupted, but Ben felt the smile in Arya’s lips as well, the slick wetness of Arya’s saliva coating everything, the mounting heat in Ben’s core, the pressure in his taint.
“I’ve missed this,” Ben sighed as Arya reached for his balls and massaged them, tugged them, reached behind them to massage his taint.
The orgasm snuck up on Ben, ripped from him by Arya’s talented mouth and hands, by the days and weeks going without, by the steaming connection they’d had from the moment they met back in his parents’ vineyard.
“Shit, I’m coming!”
Arya didn’t stop. He kept sucking Ben, swallowing through his orgasm, until he was dry and sensitive, his legs shaking, his hips flinching away because Arya’s mouth on his dick was too intense.
He let go of Arya and leaned back against a rack of electronics with a ton of cables crisscrossing them, like an old-timey telephone relay. Arya wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave Ben an evil grin.
“I’ve been waiting forever to do that.”
“I’ve been waiting forever for you,” Ben said, breathing hard.
Arya’s eyes sparkled.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here before we get in trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“These rooms aren’t monitored, but you never know when security might make a random sweep.” Arya smirked. “Pretty hot, though.”
Ben helped Arya up, and they both cleaned themselves off as best they could. Arya poked his head out the door, then reached back and took Ben’s hand again.
Ben never wanted to let go.